


Only a Matter of Time

by LaLionne (otayuriistheliteralbest)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Matchmaking, Mutual Pining, Not Epilogue Compliant, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 21:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21345133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otayuriistheliteralbest/pseuds/LaLionne
Summary: “Imagine Draco and Potter trying to date!” Pansy giggled at the thought. She put on a voice that, Draco guessed for all that it was horrible and whingy, was supposed to be him.“Ah yes, good show, Potter, let’s duel at midnight in the Forbidden Forest for our honor before snogging against the Whomping Willow. I like a little danger in my life, after all.”“Po—Harry and I are already dating!” Draco blurted out.Just as said object of Draco’s affections walked through the portrait hole. Potter froze, one foot still up in the air like he’d forgotten to finish taking a step.---In which Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter get into a fake relationship to pull one over on their friends, and it backfires in the best of ways.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 15
Kudos: 283
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2019





	Only a Matter of Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MotherBooker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherBooker/gifts).

> Thank you to the lovely Jes for checking over this fic for me and helping me when I got stuck. MotherBooker, I hope you like what I did with your awesome prompt! <3

A rainbow of House banners covered the walls of the blended Eighth Year common room. The evening was winding down, with several of the students playing games of Exploding Snap or working on their homework for the following day. Draco leaned forward in his seat at the deep green couch by the fireplace, referencing the heavy tome spread open beside his parchment on the coffee table. Pansy and Hermione sat across from him in matching armchairs, Pansy’s crossed feet resting daintily on the coffee table precariously close to his work. He tickled the bottom of her bare foot with the feather of his quill, making her squawk in protest. She threw her ballet flat at his head and he ducked, laughing.

“That was just unfair,” Pansy told him, pouting. “I don’t tickle  _ your _ feet when you’re not expecting it.”

“Ah, but that’s half the fun, Pansy dearest,” Draco retorted. “Besides, we’ve known each other our entire lives and you still have yet to find my ticklish spot.”

Pansy crossed her arms, clearly displeased. “Not for lack of trying.”

Draco snorted and got back to his work, chewing on the tip of his tongue absentmindedly. 

“So what’s it like living with Potter?” Pansy asked out of the blue, making Draco’s quill tip snap as he pressed it too hard into his parchment. He cursed under his breath and cast a quick cleaning charm to get rid of the ink splotch on the page.

“We’re not bosom buddies, if that’s what you’re asking,” Draco replied evasively.

Hermione sat up, leaning forward. 

“You  _ are _ getting along, though, right? I’ll talk to Professor McGonagall if there are any problems. I may not be a Prefect anymore or Head Girl, but she’ll listen to me.”

Draco waved his hand in the air between them as if to wipe the question from the room.

“We’ve a sort of truce now. Nothing to worry about, Granger. We aren’t about to try to murder each other anymore.”

“I’m just happy so long as I don’t catch the pair of you snogging the tension away in some alcove,” Pansy replied, a wicked glint in her eye.

Draco choked and started coughing. Hermione looked bemused, like she was in on some joke that only she and Pansy knew about.

“Where the hell did  _ that _ come from?” Draco asked once he could breathe again.

“Imagine Draco and Potter trying to date!” Pansy continued, giggling at the thought. She put on a voice that, Draco guessed for all that it was horrible and whingy, was supposed to be him.  _ “Ah yes, good show, Potter, let’s duel at midnight in the Forbidden Forest for our honor before snogging against the Whomping Willow. I like a little danger in my life, after all.” _

They dissolved into laughter, Pansy nearly falling out of her chair at the thought.

Draco glared at Pansy and Hermione, setting down the Defense Against the Dark Arts essay he’d almost finished writing and carefully capping his inkwell. They were only a month into the school year, and the girls were already grating on his frayed nerves.

“I don’t see why you think it’s impossible.”

“Are you kidding me?” Hermione asked, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “You and Harry wouldn’t even last two months together before murdering each other.”

“You would make a terrible couple, dear,” Pansy said definitively, making Draco’s brow twitch. 

He and Potter had been on better terms since he had gotten Draco acquitted for his part in Dumbledore’s death, but it was an awkward, stilted sort of new friendship. It wasn’t that he didn’t  _ want _ to ask Potter out, it was that he didn’t feel like he had the right to do so. Not after all that they had been through. Not if he weren’t sure about Potter’s feelings towards him. 

It didn’t help that in the newly-created Eighth Year dorm, all of the remaining students who had chosen to stay were given dorm rooms with only one other roommate to give them a little more privacy, and the bloody Castle had apparently decided that Potter and Draco should room together—and McGonagall had told them that under no circumstances would they be allowed to change roommates.  _ Hogwarts knows best _ , she told them when they went into her office to complain,  _ and if there is a reason for it to put you boys together, we are none of us to question its authority on these matters. _

Still—

“Po—Harry and I are already dating!” Draco blurted out.

Just as said object of Draco’s affections walked through the portrait hole. Potter froze, one foot still up in the air like he’d forgotten to finish taking a step.

“I—what’s going on?”

Draco popped off of the couch in an ungraceful tangle of limbs, fully committed to digging himself further and further into this hole, if only to save face in front of Pansy and Hermione. He grabbed Potter’s—Harry’s—hand and leaned in to murmur in his ear.

“Just... go along with whatever I say, I’ll explain later.”

Harry gave the tiniest of nods, his brow furrowed with just a hint of his confusion. Relieved, Draco laced their fingers together, feeling a thrill flutter through his chest at the sensation. He bit the corner of his lip and turned to face their friends, the look of surprise crystal clear on the witches’ faces as they exchanged glances.

“Like I said, Harry and I have been dating for a while. We just wanted to keep it between us for a while because we didn’t know how anyone else would react.” Draco could feel the blush creeping up his neck as he talked and cursed the Malfoy genes that made his embarrassment so pronounced. He hoped that Harry didn’t notice the sweatiness of his palm as he talked. Draco could feel his heart beating in his throat, hoping that none of them would call him out on his lie.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Fascinating, Draco. And just when did this happen?”

Harry’s hand twitched in Draco’s, and he answered before Draco could.

“Since we’re roommates now, we talk pretty late into the night, so it more happened naturally than anything else.” He looked meaningfully at Draco. “And that being said, I think that we should… Go. To our room.”

“Yes, I think I’m all done in for the night,” Draco agreed quickly. “Good night Pansy, Granger.”

They left the common room in a flurry of motion, and Hermione called out to them as they left.

“Draco, you forgot your— Essay.”

* * *

Harry pushed open the door to their shared bedroom and dropped his rucksack on his bed, books and quills spilling out as he did so. He spun around to face Draco, his eyebrow raised, hands on his hips.

“Okay, you’re going to have to explain to me what the hell just happened back there.”

Draco shifted nervously, closing the door quietly behind him and casting a Silencing charm on the door so that no one could listen in through the keyhole—he knew Pansy well enough to know that she would 100%, without a doubt, do just that if given the chance.

Biting his lip again, he ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head slightly as he did so.

“I’m sorry, Potter. I just… They were teasing me that we could never get along, let alone date, without killing one another. It was annoying and the words were out of my mouth before I thought about what I was saying.”

“Do you want to?”

“I—what?” Draco’s brain stuttered to a halt. Was Harry actually suggesting what he thought he was…?

“Hermione’s been badgering me too, and I think it’d be fun to pull a prank on them just about now. What d’you think, pretend to date for the rest of the year and fake an amicable breakup at graduation?”

Draco felt his heart sink. Harry was still thinking in terms of  _ pretending _ to date. Not  _ actually _ dating.

“Oh... yeah, sure. It’ll be hilarious.”

Harry grinned.

“Right? Okay, let’s set some ground rules.”

He sat on his large four poster bed next to the spilled contents of his rucksack.  Harry patted the bed next to him, nonverbally telling Draco to sit down. He did, rather uncomfortably, straight-backed with his hands clasped in his lap. Harry rolled his eyes at Draco, clearly exasperated with him.

“Okay, so what kinds of things are you comfortable with? We can hold hands, walk each other to class, shite like that.”

Draco nodded, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“That’s easy enough, seeing as we have almost all the same classes.”

“Well I can’t help it that you and Hermione are gluttons for punishment and take Ancient Runes.” Harry said with a grin. He then sat up straight and turned in his seat to face Draco. “What about pet names?”

Draco made a face.

“Please, for the love of Merlin,  _ no _ pet names. I don’t want to be called ‘sweetheart’ or ‘darling’ or some bullshite like that.”

Though, really, if Harry wanted to call him those things, Draco wouldn’t be able to find it in himself to say no.

Harry nodded solemnly. “To be honest, I probably couldn’t call you anything like that with a straight face anyway.”

His posture shifted then, and an expression crossed his face that Draco couldn’t read. A thoughtful nervousness, almost?

“What about public displays of affection?” 

Draco didn’t understand what he meant. “We already covered hand-holding…”

Harry flushed then, and Draco couldn’t help the sensation of his heart beating in his throat at the sight. 

Harry cleared his throat. “I meant more like...hugs, and, er… cuddling on the couch in the common room? Kissing? If we’re supposed to have been dating in secret for a while, then it would stand to reason that we want to be more open now that it’s ‘out’ there.”

Draco barely heard anything past Harry’s hushed, “kissing.” He felt the blood roaring in his ears. It was stupid, really. He was 18 years old and wasn’t a pubescent child anymore. It shouldn’t affect him as much as it did, and yet. Draco’s mouth was suddenly extremely dry.

“Erm, yeah. Any of the above. Though we should probably build up to it, not just go for the shock factor, right? Or else people will get bored of it quickly and move on to the next distraction.”

Harry grinned, and Draco would do anything to keep that smile on his face. This was such a mistake, but he was too far in it now. Harry reached out a hand to him.

“Boyfriends?”

Yeah, Draco was a goner.

* * *

When they went down to breakfast the next day, Draco had all but forgotten about the shift in his and Harry’s relationship due to the overwhelming need for a strong cup of black coffee. Another change to the castle with the addition of the Eighth Years and their common room was that meals were taken with year mates, rather than their Houses, to foster goodwill across House lines. 

He sat down at his usual spot at the end of the Eighth Years’ table and sighed gratefully as the much-needed coffee magically filled his cup. He was adding bacon and toast to his plate from the platters before him when Harry plunked down on the bench next to him. Draco’s immediate physical response was to scoot farther down the bench to give Harry space, but the other man wrapped an arm around his waist and planted an innocent kiss on Draco’s cheek, making him blush to the tips of his ears.  _ Oh, right. _

“Why’d you leave the room without me this morning? We could have come down together,” Harry admonished, releasing Draco from his hold, but staying much closer to him than usual. 

_ This would take some getting used to _ . Draco shrugged his shoulder, a little uncomfortable. Those sitting closest to them seemed to be eyeing them, curious, and he hated seeing that many people just staring at him.

“I felt like death warmed over and needed as much caffeine in myself as possible without setting myself up with one of those Muggle IV drips they show on those horrible TV dramas.”

Draco had joined the Muggle Studies class this year, wanting to gain a better understanding of the population of the world that did not have magic, much to the surprise of everyone who had known him. Pansy had called it, “a brilliant tactic to get people off your back,” but really, Draco just wanted to understand Muggles better.

Harry laughed. “Trust me, you wouldn’t want to put coffee directly into your veins.”

“You sure about that? It seems like a great idea to me.”

They bantered and joked, Draco slowly relaxing over the course of the breakfast. There had been a few nasty looks shot at him, but for the most part, nearly everyone accepted their story, albeit with some confusion. Draco was just glad that Ronald Weasley had opted to go right into Auror training after the war was over, bypassing his last year with them. It might have been impossible to pull this off with the freckled git breathing down their necks.

Draco and Harry fell into a sort of easy companionship, though Draco always had the thought niggling at the back of his mind that this wasn’t real, it was all pretend. But when Harry looked at him with that soft expression in his eyes, a warm smile on his face that seemed to be for Draco and Draco alone, he couldn’t help but fall just a little bit harder.

It got to the point where they could be found most nights cuddling on the couch by the fireplace when they weren’t working on homework, chatting with Pansy, Hermione, and their other friends. They played Wizard’s Chess, and Draco let Harry beat him from time to time just because he wanted to see that look of excitement when Harry’s piece captured his king.

Something had to give eventually. And it did.

* * *

For all that they had discussed it, Draco and Harry had never actually kissed in public beyond a brief kiss on the cheek. They never felt the need to go that far to prove anything around anyone else, and it was one barrier that Draco just did not want to cross, because he was afraid that it would break his fragile heart when Harry inevitably left at the end of the school year and they never saw each other again.

They were competing against each other in the last Quidditch match of their Hogwarts careers. It overwhelmed Draco, knowing that this would be it. He wasn’t good enough for the professional league, and really it wasn’t something he wanted to stick with after Hogwarts. When he came back to Hogwarts for Eighth Year, more than half the Slytherin Quidditch team was either dead or gone to different schools after the war. Slughorn asked him to be the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, he just accepted it without question. 

He didn’t realize just how hard it would be, acting almost as if his fellow students had just never existed. He spent a quiet moment, just before each match began, to think about each of them, no matter which side they had fallen on in the war, just so that they wouldn’t be forgotten. At least not by him.

At Madam Hooch’s whistle, they all took to the sky. Draco and Harry immediately started scanning the air for the ever-elusive Snitch. The match seemed to stretch out before him, going through the motions of dodging Bludgers and making laps of the pitch. There had been a couple of close calls for both teams, when both Seekers had spotted flecks of gold out of the corner of their eyes, near the goalposts or close to the ground. It got away from them every time, and Draco could see the pure joy in Harry’s eyes, even from a distance, as he swooped through the warm breeze coming in from across the lake.

Draco didn’t see the Bludger one of the Gryffindors smacked toward him. He only felt the crunch of the impact as it shattered his elbow, and he fell toward the ground, unconscious before he could process what was happening.

* * *

Draco came-to in the Hospital Wing. It was already pitch black outside, so he must have been out for quite some time. The curtains that wrapped around his cot did nothing to block out the argument taking place just a few feet away from him. 

“I don’t care that it’s after visiting hours, Madam Pomfrey, I just want to see Draco.”

“Out of the question, Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy needs his rest after that fall. He’s just lucky you were quick with that Cushioning charm or his injuries would have been much worse. Let him sleep and you can see him in the morning.”

Draco tried to get in a more comfortable position and almost cried out in pain. He shook with the effort to stay still and silent.

Harry’s voice sounded tight. With worry? Why would he be worried? It’s not as if they were really dating.

“Please, can I at least say good night?”

There was a pause, and then—

“Very well, Mr. Potter, for all the good it’ll do him. Be quiet and do not rouse him.”

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

She  _ hmmfed _ and Draco listened to the soft clatter of her heels as she walked to her office. Draco hurriedly closed his eyes just as the curtains shushed open. He felt the bed dip as Harry settled on it next to him, picking up Draco’s good hand with hands that shook.

When Harry spoke, Draco was shocked to hear the constriction in Harry’s voice that gave away that he was crying.

“Merlin, Draco, do you have any idea how fucking scared I was today, seeing you fall like that? It was all I could do to cushion your fall. You were fifty feet up in the air. You so easily could have died, and I—” the tears that had been threatening to break started to fall and Harry’s voice cracked. “I love you so much, you arsehole. And you don’t even know it because of this stupid fake relationship we’re in.”

Harry’s hands gripped Draco’s harder, and it was as if Draco had forgotten how to breathe.

“Don’t you dare do this to me again, d’you hear? I’ll come back in the morning.”

Draco could feel Harry hesitate as he was about to rise from the bed, and then the warmth of his body pressed over Draco as Harry leaned down and brushed his lips to Draco’s, barely a whisper against his mouth.

Harry rose then, clearing his throat.

“Goodnight.”

Draco waited until the curtains had closed and he heard the main door to the Hospital Wing shut quietly behind Harry before opening his eyes. He pressed his hand to his mouth, still warm from Harry’s kiss.

_ Well, that changes things. _

* * *

It took several healing spells and a particularly nasty potion over the next few days for Draco’s shattered elbow to fully heal. Harry had visited him each morning, bringing him his black coffee and breakfast from the Great Hall and regaling him with stories from the days before. He made no mention of his late-night visit to Draco, and Draco opted not to say anything about it. Not yet, at least. 

Before Harry’s revelation, Draco hadn’t touched Harry when others weren’t around. He hadn’t wanted to push his luck, and there was no need to keep up the charade when it was just them. Now, he brushed Harry’s hands with his when he accepted the cup of coffee, crowded in on Harry’s side, leaning against him as they worked on homework together in Draco’s hospital bed.

If Harry had noticed the change, he didn’t comment on it, and Draco didn’t know how to tell him his own feelings. Of course it couldn’t last. The month before they sat for their N.E.W.T.s, a splinter in the fragile glass between them cracked, and they had their first real fight since after the war.

Harry slammed into their room, Draco following in his wake. He had seen the anger simmering under the surface for days, and Draco had no idea what it could mean. He shifted nervously, afraid to move a muscle until he knew what had happened.

“I can’t do this anymore, Malfoy,” Harry said, turning on his heel to face Draco in the doorway. Draco’s rucksack thumped to the ground beside him, and he shut the door quickly behind him, Silencing it with a quick flick of his wand.

“Back to last names, are we, Potter?” Draco asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the door, trying to affect the casual attitude he wished he could feel in that moment.

“I thought that this fake relationship thing would be a bit of fun, something to poke fun at our classmates for. It’s...it hurts too much, I can’t keep doing it.”

Draco’s body started shaking and he swallowed the hard lump in his throat.

“And what if I say no?”

Harry laughed derisively and ran a rough hand through his wild mane of hair.

“You have to be joking, right?”

Draco decided that it was now or never. He hoped that night in the Hospital Wing hadn’t been a fever dream brought on by his shattered elbow, or else he was about to make a huge mistake. He pushed off from the door and sauntered slowly over to Harry, afraid to scare him into flight. Draco reached up, cupping Harry’s strong jawline in his hand, his fingers delicate on the rough five o’clock shadow there.

“Does this seem like I’m joking?” He whispered, and leaned in to kiss Harry gently on the mouth. Draco was shaking with nervous energy, and he pulled away after only the briefest of moments. Harry stood there, slack-jawed, as if he’d forgotten what he was doing.

“Harry Potter, I like you. A lot. I just never knew how to tell you, and with what’s happened in our lives, there was never a thought in my mind that there could be something between us. But then in the Hospital Wing—“

“Er, what?” Harry finally snapped-to, interrupting Draco’s stream of consciousness rambling.

“I wasn’t asleep, Harry.”

“...Oh. Then, you heard...?”

“Everything.” Draco smirked at him, wrapping his free arm around Harry’s waist to pull him closer. “Now that we’ve cleared the air, do you still want to stop?”

Harry reached up and wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck. 

“Draco Malfoy, do you want to go out with me? For real?”

Draco didn’t bother to bite back his grin and leaned his forehead against Harry’s.

“Merlin, Harry, yes.”

* * *

The next morning, Hermione and Pansy were sitting at the Eighth Years’ table in the Great Hall for breakfast discussing what they expected to be on the N.E.W.T.s when Draco and Harry joined them, sitting across from the women. They knew that something had changed. It was like a static in the air. Harry sat with one arm wrapped around Draco’s waist, and they couldn’t stop looking at each other without blushing. While their friends had gotten used to seeing them sit like this at their meals before, their body language had changed completely. At one point, Harry peppered Draco’s face with kisses until Pansy faked gagging into her bowl of porridge.

“Do you two mind?  _ Some _ of us are trying to eat here.”

Harry unwrapped himself from around Draco to sit properly on the bench, but he still leaned close to Draco, as if he couldn’t bare to be separated from him.

“Sorry, sorry.”

As the boys busied themselves with their meals, Hermione leaned over and whispered in Pansy’s ear. “Well, it looks like they actually talked about their feelings. Good job.”

Pansy fluttered her eyelashes at Hermione. “Oh, darling, please. I was about to lock them in that bedroom of theirs and make them bang it out if they didn’t stop faking at a relationship we all knew they wanted. It was only a matter of time.”

They grinned and went back to their breakfast.


End file.
